Blood and Bond
by bunnylover94
Summary: Kol and Klaus aren't the typical siblings. They prefer blood and other nefarious deeds. They are evil, after all. They are forced to unite over a common enemy, which they soon realize who isn't their true enemy. Then despite the revelations that smack Kol Mikaelson in the face, along with a new attraction thrown into the mix, he and Nik must work together or die trying. AU.
1. Chapter 1: Give Me Love

AN: Hi, this is my first full-length Vampire Diaries story, which gives me goosebumps. I love this idea and story line that is grinding around in my head.

Plus I love-love-love the Mikaelsons.

They made that show, honestly.

Hope you all enjoy.

Chapter 1: Give me Love

The Sun poured into the bedroom. The light and dust collided into multiple tiny dark sparkles. The brown wood shined like polished mahogany, despite the aged and cracked wood was coated in dust. Jars of herbs and crushed powders crowded the desk. Scrolls and books open with remnants of stray specks of green, red, yellow and pink loitered on the crisp and frayed pages.

Kol smirked at the low snoring and sometimes snoring woman. He traced across her face with his ring finger. He absorbed all the thick eyelashes and memorized every inch of her skin. He brushed aside a strand of wavy brown hair. Her lips parted with a small huff and then resumed her soft snores. He then kissed her temple and he detached his arms and chest from her sleeping form.

His feet hit the cracked floor and he flashed over to collect a pair of shoes. His least favorite pair of Crocs. Those rubber soles made him want to teach humans a lesson in style. They lost their fashion card the day they pushed those monstrous rubber shoes into the human market.

Gods, she was amazing.

Truly. He had never met an innocent witch like her. All of them played alongside him to murder his siblings. Most would never have lifted their ghostly fingers to assist him and guide him back to his true body.

Witches were astounding. They never disappointed. They were stubborn beings, but when they were finally ripped away from their righteous stances, they amazed Kol.

He loved witches. Worshipped them like goddesses. Perhaps, they were in many ways. They provided him what had been stripped by his parents. News flash, Kol Mikaelson never desired to become immortal, invincible or better than the werewolves.

They understood the bonds magic erected. They respected them, they never attempted to break them, even when the tides turned. They kept their oaths and erected the foundation that refused the rejection of their descendants.

Not his family, though. Their family adored the killing and betrayal of one another. His mother was torn between her duty as a wife and a loyal sister. She failed in both aspects. Esther was a monster, betrayer and mutilator to the nature she had sworn absolute fealty to.

Words, promises and all bonds forsworn. Kol Mikaelson observed and noted all the stark truths and half lies from his mother. Why should he attempt to alter his ways? His mother never certainly did.

They didn't even try to aid him when he lost the last parts of his humanity. The Mikaelsons cared for their own individual desires. Mikaelsons laughed at those who continued to help others.

Kol turned away from his sleeping lover. His mahogany eyes latched on to a tiny wooden duck twisted on an aged and dusty leather strand.

Oh…Eira…

She never deserved to die. Her eyes like his own and her long tresses of brown wavy hair also hair, but she contained her mother's infinite compassion and joy.

Qualities Kol Mikaelson never earned; even before his transformation. Two joys that had been snatched away from him.

The only two joys that ever mattered. Before his dark vampire nature invaded his human cells and infected him with the yearning to slaughter and consume gallons of warm blood.

Cold blood held little appeal and flavor.

Vampires, especially his family and his bastard of a brother, didn't. They took what was theirs. Even Elijah and Finn never minded the greater balance and bonds nature urged all to seize. They draped their guilt and their needs around their heads like a soft holy shawl. The elder Mikaelson children refused to look behind and examine the wider scope of the world.

Finn, especially, adhered to his human impulses. He rarely indulged on his vampiric desires, blood and violence. Shame, really, it might have bonded them as the sociopathic family they wanted.

Elijah almost entered the central requirement to becoming on Kol's level, except he allowed his devotion to his siblings to gravitate him around the Mikaelson duty. He chained himself to Nik's cause, even when his personal safety was compromised over and over again. And every romantic partner he cherished either betrayed him or was killed by Nik out of spite.

Kol pitied how pathetic his brother was.

They clung to the violence and blood. Even Elijah and Finn. Poor Finn, he couldn't escape the murderous he tried so hard to deny.

Not to say, violence wasn't thrilling or fun. He loved ripping out hearts and crippling his enemies. If any the Gilberts or their allies ever attempted to enter this city…

Well he'd create a fresh and brutal torture that would mark him as the worst and most dangerous of his family. And then no one would try to slaughter him. Again.

A cruel smile tilted up into his jaw line. His white teeth gleaming in the morning light. He glanced around the attic they were cooped up in. Hidden away like bats. Kol rolled his eyes at the irony. A beauty and the beast hidden in a tower. Both of whom could never escape the lingering danger the city's _King_ radiated and intoxicated across his precious kingdom.

Did Marcel really believe he could keep her trapped her and do his bidding? Foolish child. Children needed to learn their place.

Klaus should have realized that long ago.

Even Kol understood that.

Why Klaus kept him around?

Kol scoffed. Perhaps Nik thought Marcel remembered the power Nik wielded. Or that Marcel would be eager to step down the minute Nik executed Mikael and terminated his curse. No one who was raised as Mikaelson handed anything over willingly. It was their nature.

Kol admired Marcel for standing up to Klaus when few ever attempted such a feat.

"Kol…" sighed Davina.

He turned back to his lover and stared at her as she stirred from her sleep.

"Good morning, darling," he greeted.

A sweet smile enveloped her sleepy human face. A spark of humanity pierced Kol briefly before he swallowed down the predatory urge to pierce his fangs into her pulsating neck.

"What an adorable pair you are," taunted a smooth British voice.

A wave of anger and anxiety for Davina's life reverberated throughout Kol. He pushed down the urge to dash over and pull out

Kol whipped his head toward the mocking voice.

"What do you want, Nik?" demanded Kol.

"Klaus…" Davina stated with burning rage.

He positioned himself in front of Davina. Nik darted his eyes between Davina and Kol with a cold, mocking stare.

"At the moment, nothing. But I'm willing to take the life of the one witch who thwarted my plans," Nik stated with feigned poise.

His green-blue eyes aimed at Davina's neck and spine. Nik's mental clogs appeared to spin. Lucky for Davina, Kol was present.

Kol had to admit the fact his brother provided a somewhat polite demeanor throughout his threats and confrontations wasn't a tiny bit admirable. It was just flat out irritating. Nik sure loved showing off.

Nik's dimples popped. "I'm sure you wouldn't mind sharing her brother. After all, you've never minded sharing the _unremarkable_ people in your life."

Davina's jaw dropped, and her face morphed into a mixture of offense and sleepiness. Nik only smirked with his signature dimples puffed out like proud peacock feathers.

Kol growled. His eyes turned a red and his veins streamed down his cheeks. His fists tightened and his jaw clenched.

Nik merely deepened his smirk back at his brother. An innocent yet menacing gleam swirled in his blue-green eyes.

"Careful Kol, we wouldn't want your pure witch to see you lose your temper," Nik cautioned.

Kol narrowed his eyes and stepped into Nik's personal space.

"Kol. Don't," Davina pleaded. Her voice tinted in worry and sleep.

Why did she take so long to wake up?

He needed her to get ready to kick Nik's ass. Taking down Niklaus Mikaelson was a two-person job.

"Listen to your witch, brother," Nik said with a threatening gaze.

"What do you want, _Klaus_?" asked Davina.

Nik paused and looked around the attic. "I thought you two would have chosen a better place to live. Somewhere _cleaner_."

Davina clamped her lips together. Her face contorted in furious offense.

Kol retracted his fangs and his red veins vanished. "Get on with it Nik, I don't have all day."

Nik nodded and parted his dimple-popping and annoying smug mouth. "We have a common enemy."

"You," remarked Kol.

Nik ignored him. Raising a finger to a thread hanging from the ceiling. A broken piece of glass was tied to the bottom of the thread. He plucked off the glass piece and rolled it around in his palm. Then he tossed it to the polished bed post. It landed inches from Davina's scalp. She yelped and stood up on the bed.

"What the hell?" shouted Davina.

Kol rushed into Nik and pulled him by the lapels. He sneered in Nik's face who merely smirked and his blue-green eyes reflected a threatening yet amused gleam. Kol tightened his grip before releasing Nik who grinned in triumph.

"Careful, brother. Remember how it ended last time. I'd hate to have Davina have resurrect you a second time," chided Nik.

Kol winced internally. He considered himself an immortal who handled any situation with impulsive reaction. Kol would indeed return to his previous dead status if continued barreling and directly attacking Nik.

Kol Mikaelson was many things. Reckless, immature, and murder-happy, but not repetitive and stupid. He was a quick learner, and he refused to reprise his past impulsive mistakes that led to his death by the Gilberts' plot.

Kol Mikaelson valued life. Death was not fun or thrilling as the life he venerated. And Hell was worse than he ever believed it to be. He was not going back there. Ever.

"Kol, what are you doing?" demanded Davina.

Davina loathed Nik, more than all of the remaining Mikaelson siblings did. And she thought she was the only one who suffered from Nik. Kol refused for Nik to become the ruthless Klaus persona he loved to drape over his body. Especially with Davina near.

"…" Kol glared at Nik.

"My brother has come to his senses," remarked Nik.

Kol turned to face his lover and lifted her down from the bed. He caressed her hair. Those beautiful strands shined in the darkening light, her hands whitened, her jaw clenched and her eyes blaring into Nik's skull. Kol coughed to hide his amusement from her.

Gods, why did nature curse him so?

"Davina...I have to help my brother," stated Kol.

Kol would regret this, he knew. Every time his brother dragged into his schemes, Kol was wounded or engaged with his brother's enemies' fights. He'd rather travel or seduce beautiful mouthy witches.

"Have you forgotten what he's done?!" demanded Davina.

Kol snorted. How could he forget? He ignored his lover and directed his menacing brown gaze to Nik.

"Who is threatening you this time, _Nik_? Has that Bennett witch decided to melt your brains?" Kol mocked.

Kol wished he had the girl on speed dial. Maybe she could blast his brother into his proper place.

Nik rolled his eyes. "Someone who you've never met."

And…Nik ignored his quips. Pity, they were excellent ones.

"And? All this mystery bores me Nik," stated an unimpressed Kol.

Nik raised a brow. "So you will help."

Only Nik could mix hostility into simple phrases.

Kol nodded. "But…"

Nik huffed. "What, brother?"

"Davina stays out," ordered Kol.

"Well…" dragged out Nik.

"No. She. Does. Not. Get. Involved." Kol demanded with a sneer.

Nik smirked. "That's fine. I'd rather not have her anywhere near me. Besides I have someone more helpful…"

On cue, the dark haired tanned female strode in with a permanent frown etched across her face. Kol rolled his eyes.

Kol groaned. "What's with the wolf _bitch_?"

Since when was _Hayley_ helpful? Kol needed Nik to stop using slobbering mongrels from sniffing up old clues and digging up bones. They needed _actual_ help. Like witches or warlocks or any vampires Nik could use his "Klaus" leverage over.

"I don't have time for whatever brother drama this is," indifferently stated the she-beast.

"You'd make time for seducing Elijah. And then tucking him in," remarked Kol.

Hayley bared her fangs at Kol. Kol smirked and then mockingly winked at the dog.

"Enough, Kol," ordered Nik.

"Why should I suddenly respect the women you've slept with? You've never done the same courtesy for me," snarked Kol.

Nik narrowed his eyes for a moment and a tension coated the room. Kol returned the glare tenfold. Then suddenly Nik dropped his anger and then stepped into Kol's personal space. Kol raised a brow at his brother.

"You have a point, brother," agreed Nik.

What the hell…

Nik really needed his help, otherwise, he would have stabbed Kol's heart a hundred times over. And then snap his neck for a dozen times, at least.

"This person we are facing is…annoying," stated Nik.

Kol snorted. "More than Elijah. Or Finn."

"Both," said Nik with a shudder.

Nik clamped Kol on the back and gestured for Kol to follow him over to the grime-covered window.

Kol's back turned as Hayley stared down Davina who shook her head. Hayley flickered her eyes to Kol and then to Klaus and raised an eyebrow at Davina. Davina lowered her eyes to the floor and then slowly looked to Hayley. She nodded and Hayley grinned with her white teeth glowing in the darkened light.

Davina stared with wide eyes at Kol's back with her lips tipped down. Hayley's teeth morphed into an animalistic sneer and a silent snarl escaped her lips. Her gaze pointed at both Kol and Klaus.


	2. Chapter 2: Renegade

A/N: Hello, guys. This is the second chapter of my full-fanfiction. I'm excited to show the OC's POV…Anthony Gilbert has a strange warning from the spirits. Thanks to _**I love Kol Mikaelson**_ for the request that bore this whole story. I just want to warn the readers that this chapter has some language.

If you don't like vulgar language, it's best to skip this chapter.

By the way, the Latin word _Socius_ means ally, companion, fellow and comrade. Or that's Google Translate said. If I'm wrong, please let me know.

**Disclaimer: I own nothing from the TVD world**

Chapter 2: Renegade

* * *

Candles flickered as a vibrating force ricocheted along the crisp long posters that rolled out to the floor moldings. The light's dimmed and then expanded to highlight the smirking Loki and the other smooth amused fictional men. Sebastian from Black Butler with his white-gloved hand placed on his chest. Another long smirking one clawed hand trench coat wearing homunculus with long straight black hair. Chris Pratt in his red leather

Anthony Henry Gilbert was concentrating on the tone and the Latin phrases he muttered under his breath. A wick of sage burned in the corner of his room to mask the spells he chanted from prying ears such as his neglectful sister. Maroon and white powder blanketed inside the ring of glowing candles. His hands glowed with the residue of the powders he had carefully placed among the melting wax sticks.

His brow furrowed as a slight breeze entered the microscopic arena. The thyme he carefully placed in a wooden bowl with other herbs stirred by itself and then a tiny flame erupted from his words. Then the breeze quickened as he continued with the ancient and weighted Latin phrases and it skated through the powdered floor.

Tony's nose twitched as the powder sailed past his face. His upper row of gleaming white teeth anchored down the lower lip.

The distant smell of crisp pine needles invaded his nostrils. Tony's eyes turned into a milky white and Norse symbols appeared across the scattered grains.

A sharp snarl erupted from the amber flames, one that had entangled with the sulfurous aroma and had tangy, flowery and something unknown stirred in the air.

The spirits howled with not anger, but happiness and hope. They giggled and a dark feeling wafted over Tony and the powder coated floor.

The milky hue evaporated and a gust of air escaped from Tony's lips.

"He's alive," he whispered through quaking lips.

Tony's heart thundered. His palms erupted in sweat. He then collapsed to the ground as a final invisible wave knocked against him.

A coo resounded in his ears. One of Kol's past lovers, who taunted Tony and ran her formless fingers through his hair. Tony's lungs seized and his heart pounded in terrifying anticipation. A dark retribution spread out into the lit powdered circle.

Tony's pulse resumed once the apparition slipped out the room.

He gasped and shuddered as he rose up to his up to his bare feet. His calves tightened and an overwhelming urge to run flooded his thoughts. Kol Mikaelson was alive…How? Who would bring him back?

Who would dare?

Didn't they know the horror they were unleashing on the world?

Tony's lips thinned.

He ran his hand over his eyes.

"Kol's alive," he murmured.

Still confounded by this profound realization.

The spirits buzzed around his head. Soft yet spirited warnings echoed and then cautioned the young warlock to remain alert for this newly resurrected individual. And to prepare to make a decision.

"What am I deciding on?" Tony wondered aloud.

Instead of a response, the air sucked out of the room. It slithered under the door and the magical aura dissipated. He sighed in frustration. Spirits, who seemed to love meddling, never really wanted to face the consequences of attempting to slaughter a Mikaelson or two. Although, they seemed to love rooting for the Mystic Falls gang on their attempts to kill Klaus on multiple occasions.

Tony dusted off the powder from his wrinkled black shredded skater jeans. He blew out the candles. Didn't want his room burning down. He sighed once more and grabbed his phone and his jacket. It buzzed and it informed him of his coffee plans with a one Sash. Tony smirked at the emoji exploded with bursting heart eyes. He walked out the circle and plucked up his grimoire. He refused to leave that holy book out to be read by any possible vampire eyes or any loyal yet underappreciated brown skinned witches whose names happened to rhyme with Ronnie Hennett.

He then walked out of his bedroom and shut the door.

Anthony eyes widened in horror. His face contorted in disgusted astonishment. The pans were charred at the bottom of the metallic dish. Elena panicked as the pan melted under her grasp. He spotted a charred dish rag in the sink and a chipped plate beside the coffee pot. What in name of the universe?

Was that even possible? To burn the pan to the extent of the metal dripping, and then his sister should have known not to even attempt cooking with her genes.

Anthony his amused smirk behind his sage and numerous powder dusted right hand.

"Where's Anthony?" asked Elena.

Anthony's smirk slipped away. He shoved his hands in his pockets. He might as well walk out. They wouldn't notice. They never did.

He loved his siblings, but they got on his nerves. How long did it take to observe the quietest Gilbert?

Whatever. He had spells to do. Magic he actually wanted to engage in.

He stalked over to the entryway and flung open the front door.

"Hello, Gilbert," greeted an arrogant voice.

Anthony raised a bored eyebrow. He forced to swallow the lingering anger that attacked his heart. It took all of his control to fight to down his instincts and attack the immature and uncaring vampire.

"Salvatore," he deadpanned.

Damon smirked at him. "Dumbledore," Damon responded mockingly.

Anthony stewed. All it would take was one migraine…

"Damon? Anthony, there you are," stated Elena.

"So, your sister's been looking for you…What a coincidence," said Damon.

Tony snorted.

"Anthony, Bonnie's gone. We need someone to help us trap Silas," she pleaded with pseudo-reason.

What did he expect?

All she saw was opportunity, a walking breathing opportunity who knew how to bind and burn her enemies. Tony Gilbert was simply a piece of the puzzle for her end game. His eyes burned and he briefly shut his lids.

You'd think after Jeremy had died, she'd have a bit more compassion and love for her remaining family…But nothing had changed.

He was a mage pawn in her little games against the so-called forces of evil. His throat scorched with thick stomach acid and he swallowed down both his acidic bile and his disappointment.

"…" Anthony brushed past Damon.

"Anthony where are you going?" demanded his sister.

Anthony ignored her and continued stalking through the dew-collected grass. He was practically Bonnie 2.0. He was required to appear before the great and powerful Elena and her devoted legion of brainwashed devotees. Like Bonnie, he had his own personal life which seemed to be overlooked by whatever Elena schemed or involved herself in. And that greasy self-centered elder Salvatore didn't help matters as he pushed and persuaded her to commit to those devious decisions.

What a bunch of selfish assholes.

Too late, sweetheart.

"Oh come now, Tony. You know we need you," pleaded Damon in a mocking tone.

"Anthony, Bonnie's gone. Silas killed Jere, we need to stop him," reasoned Elena.

"I don't need to do anything," Tony remarked coldly.

Their brother was gone. What was the point of facing Silas? For revenge, for family, he doubted she was doing this for any noble reason. He wasn't going to involve himself in a magical duel at the behest of his wide-eyed sister. Silas was feared and locked away for a reason…And his sister of course unleashed him. Any and all havoc Silas wrecked on the world was on _her_ , not him.

She wanted the cure.

He didn't.

She stirred the pot with the Mikaelsons and then complained and refused to bow before their deals or treaties.

He was indifferent to the whole ordeal.

She was still stuck in the past.

He couldn't find himself caring.

"Anthony," she started.

Tony whirled around on her. "No, Elena. I'm not going to help you."

Did she honestly believe she could bat her little eyelashes and expect him to come running at the first sign of trouble?

"But we're _family_ ," she emphasized.

Anthony Gilbert tasted the insincerity that splattered through the space between them. He wanted to just wallow in a hole and never come out. But he forced himself to not sink into the ground.

"Listen to your sister, Gilbert," taunted Damon.

Anthony's lips thinned.

His dark eyes leered at Damon's smirk.

Anthony's hands buzzed and shook with a thick invisible energy that saturated the air that tugged on the stirring cyclones that formed as his lips silently parted with a curled Latin phrase. The energy snapped and whipped in Damon Salvatore's direction.

A flame erupted on Damon's leather covered collarbone. The once-smirking vampire hissed in protest and groaned as his knees collapsed to the ground.

"Damon," Elena cried.

Anthony sneered down at Damon who kneeled at his feet.

"You fag…" growled Damon.

Tony didn't blink as he increased the lashing energy that dug into Damon's smug flesh. He even sprinkled in one that made small rivers stream down Damon's eyes, nostrils and mouth.

"What did you call Anthony?" demanded Elena.

Tony scoffed. That what was her concern? Or rather her fake concern?

Like she cared.

"Whatever. See you around _leech_ ," growled Tony.

"Oh. Go suck a cock," retorted Damon.

"Damon," scolded Elena.

In a way she was offended of the hypothetical accusation. Like there was no way he was…that.

Like being gay equaled to damnation in the eyes of the pure St. Elena.

He rolled his eyes and shoved his hands into his smooth velvet pockets. He sighed as he pivoted away and trudged down the sidewalk.

Hopefully, he got hit by a bus.

"He said what?!" hollered Sasha.

Sasha King, his best friend, whose thick black curls and black arms that leaned into the table in defense ready to spring at Salvatore. She wore a luminous purple sweater with a thin silver cross necklace that sat on her chest and a nice pair of jeans. Her brown eyes highlighted thanks to the purple eyeliner and mascara that decorated her face. Her eyes danced in irritation and objection at Tony's words.

He paused before he resumed speaking.

"There's other people you know?" teased Tony.

"Shut up, Iron Man," she retorted with a slow roll of her eyes.

He chortled.

"Yeah, big man in a suit of armor…Take that off, what are you?" she demanded in her best gruff Chris Evans' imitation.

"Genius. Billionaire. Playboy. Philanthropist," he responded with false arrogance.

They glared at one another until their lips began trembling. They burst out in uproarious laughter. Sasha sighed with a wide amused smile.

"I have a problem, Sash," confessed Tony.

"Yeah, you have a serious problem with smirking bad boys," Sasha informed with a wiggling pair of manicures eyebrows.

"Don't all bad boys smirk?" asked Tony.

Sasha's eyes swirled in silent deliberation.

"Dr. Doom doesn't," she said.

Tony shook his head.

"Technically, Doom isn't a bad boy," he noted.

"Yeah, he's a bad man," she hummed with a thrill dripping from her words.

"You have problems," he joked.

"Pot. Kettle," she said.

Tony chuckled.

"Yeah," he agreed.

A long beat of silence passed them as Tony lifted his foamy drink to his lips. His eyes turned to the giggling girl who batted her thick mascara coated eyelashes at her overwhelmed and gulping chunky blonde boy companion.

She leaned into him and pressed gently on his thick, hairy arm. Her red lips puckered and she captured his trembling lips in a slow and sweet kiss.

His eyes widened in surprise and then his cheeks tinted in red from both pleasure an endearing delight.

"Well, that's new," commented Anthony.

And so not going to land the evening news.

"Yep. And so sweet…" cooed Sasha.

"Almost," muttered Anthony.

"Are you kidding? It's refreshing. I'm so tired of the stereotype that thin pretty girls only go for pretty athletic guys. Besides- I get it," she confessed.

Tony turned to her with an astonished look.

"I thought you liked strong guys," he said.

She scoffed and looked at him with pursed lips.

"I do. But I really love men who are thick and muscular and have some pounds filled out in the stomach, sides and legs. Mm…Nothing sexier than a big bear of a man. A man who can lift you off the ground with no problem. A man who will cuddle with you," she said.

"Okay…" said Anthony.

"You don't approve," she noted.

"It's not that…" he started.

"Yes, it is. But maybe you'd change if Kol gained a belly," she teased.

Tony blushed.

"Ha. Totally called it," she bragged.

Tony chuckled and then tipped back the thick creamy sugar drink down his throat.

"So the migraine spell…" Sasha started.

Tony tilted his head to the side.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Does it hurt?" she responded with a curious tone.

Tony smirked and lifted the cup to his lips once more.

Sasha cackled.

"Good. Hope the ass lost some brain cells," she said.

"That's generous to assume he had some to begin with," mocked Tony.

She giggled.

Tony cracked a content smile.

"I can't believe you and Elena were raised by the same parents," remarked Sasha.

"Me either," agreed Tony.

"Stop," begged Sasha.

Tony's cheeks rose and his eyes twinkled.

"You too are the strangest siblings," she observed.

"I'm not," he argued.

Sasha snorted. "Uh. Huh."

"…I wish she'd just see me. And not the projection of me she wants. I'm like her little doll," he confessed.

"A gorgeous Ken doll," she cooed.

"Gee, thanks," he said.

Sasha smirked.

"I'm leaving," he said with tilted teasing lips.

"Goodbye…I'll send a postcard," she sang.

Tony snorted.

He frowned once he looked down as the sage remnants that floated and then realigned with the same Norse symbols that then remerged into one familiar Latin phrase, _Socius_. Strange that the spirits remained vague with what they wanted him to do. They'd never been shy before.

"What's wrong?" she asked in a fearful tone.

Tony turned back to Sasha. "Someone has brought back a Mikaelson."

Sasha inhaled. "Which one?"

"The one my siblings killed," he said.

"That doesn't narrow it down," she said with a frown.

"…The one they killed successfully," he elaborated.

"Oh…Oh! Your sexy-ass boyfriend."

Tony's cheeks burned. "Shut up."

Sasha smirked. " _Me_ thinks the lord protest too much."

Tony snorted. "You said that wrong."

A well-manicured eyebrow rose. "And?"

Tony pressed his lips together.

Why had Kol Mikaelson been brought to life?

He tilted his lips in a teasing grin. "Are you up for a road trip?"

"Of course," she said with a smirk adorning her face.


	3. Chapter 3: Strange Magic

A/N: This chapter will be the shortest one in the entire story. Of course, **I own nothing: All of the TVD entity belongs to other creative minds**. And special shout out to _**I love Kol Mikaelson.**_

* * *

Davina laid down the square and cross quilt down on the green flecks under a thick tree. The moss spiraled down with the green and the long branches tipped down to the ground. She placed down a wicker picnic basket in the center. She knelt down and opened up the top. She pulled out the plastic wrapped sandwiches. She even pulled out a chilled jug of lemonade and two matching plastic cups.

She smiled as she passed a sandwich and a cup to her vampire. He smirked as she shimmied over to him.

"Thanks, darling," said Kol with a quick kiss to her lips.

Davina sighed happily. She leaned into him and watched as the Sun loomed and the wind quickened and an invisible presence emerged. It lingered by Davina and then applied a mocking pressure to her shoulders. Her shoulders tightened with tension. Her stomach dropped and a dark swirl circled inside her forewarning of the future destine for the Claire witch.

Oh. No.

Not now.

"You have a rival, little witch," taunted the deceased spirit.

Davina shuddered.

"You'll have to choose little witch, love or revenge. You can't have both," giggled the entity.

Davina's eyes widened and her pulse quickened.

"Darling…" began Kol with his forehead crinkled.

"I'm fine," she stated with a slight shake in her voice.

Kol raised an eyebrow at her.

"Really, I'm good," she assured him.

The spirit giggled at her as her heart soared as Kol leaned into her and resumed kissing her neck, shoulders, and lips. Davina pushed down the sinister vibes that resounded through her innards.

She should enjoy this, before she had to do what was long overdue.

* * *

A/N: Dun, dun, dun. What's Davina up to? Somebody's going to get hurt real bad. Please review and enjoy.


	4. AN: Have not forgotten this story

A/N: Hello, I'm sorry that I haven't updated in a while. My computer was tackled by a tidal wave of water, through a spazzy dance whack. I apologize for the long delay. This story will be updated before the end of the year

Also, the story content will display a different set-up compared to the traditional TVD fanfiction formula.

Thank you for your patience, my dear readers!

-Bunnylover94


	5. AN: This story is now on hiatus

A/N: Hello, I have been gone for a while now. I must confess this story will not be updated for a long time, because I have other concerns in my life that I need to take care of. Once everything settles down and my other writings are accomplished.

I will return one day back to finish this chapter story to illustrate a different POV than most other Vampire Diaries Fanfiction.

I want to incorporate more Norse mythos and magical influences that the TVD tv universes have created. I want my original characters to be more realistic and not simple, flat beings with limited characteristics.

I want to show a character I love: Klaus, as someone who is downright low some to his brothers and sisters.

I want to create a vivid flashback sequence that is not weighed down by old fiction clichés.

Thank you for putting up with me. Happy readings!

-Bunnylover94


End file.
